Three Times Lonely
by Aanaleigh
Summary: Eleven Christmases alone. One with friends, and back to being alone. Written for the Veritaville writing contest.


_**Written for the Veritaville writing contest. The theme was 'Holidays' **_

_**On to the oneshot.**_

_I. Alone_

December 25th was a day for family. Lots of Americans were sitting down in their houses with their children, acting like a family. Children were laughing and playing with new toys, and parents were drinking coffee and watching their children with smiles on their faces.

A small eleven year old girl sat by the front window in her house, watching the snow fall and seeing some kids out playing in the snow. She didn't want to join the kids; she was waiting for her mother to come home. Come home and smile at her, and say Merry Christmas, and laugh and have a good time. Be a normal family. Normal. That was her Christmas wish, for everything to be normal for once.

Chewing on a small piece of black hair, the girl's observant blue eyes surveyed the street once more before she gave up. Her mother would not be home that day. Her mother had found something more important then her daughter.

Out loud, the girl whispered to herself, "Thalia, there is no reason to be crying over mom, you knew this would happen…" Her voice trailed off as a single tear made a track down her face. She would not cry; she refused to. Ten year olds did not cry.

With a practice mask face on, Thalia made her way upstairs to her bedroom. She could at least play with her teddy bear, or have a nap. That would waste some of the day away, though not all of it.

After crawling under a warm blanket, Thalia drifted off into sleep, into a dream that she had a loving family in, one that would not abandon her.

Two hours passed in silence, then three, that was when the door opened and a woman stumbled in the house. She crashed around the house before finally landing on the couch, and falling into a deep sleep.

Thalia got up from bed and headed downstairs, hoping to find her mother sitting happily in the living room waiting for her. That wouldn't happen, not in a million years, Thalia kept telling herself.

The sight before her revealed the truth. Her mother's clothes were dirty, and ripped, her skin was a bit flushed, and her make-up smeared. Her hair was a rat's nest, and grey hairs were visible.

The blanket that was kept nearby, for just such things, ended up draped over the sleeping form, and a ten year old girl stood away, watching her mother sleep, more tears freeing themselves from blue eyes.

_II. Forlorn _

Another year gone, another Christmas to suffer through. Thalia thought her mother had changed, she was happier in a way, she smiled at her daughter more. But that changed again. She went back to old habits, and this year, December 25th, was spent alone again, with a sleeping body on the couch in the living room. A small, bare pine tree that was suppose to be a Christmas tree was set up in an empty corner. It wasn't decorated; Thalia couldn't find it in herself to decorate it herself. It was left bare, a reminder to how Christmas would be once again.

This year wasn't as bad as the last. Thalia expected her mother to pass out from alcohol, she expected to have most of the house to herself. She took this time to try and read a book she had gotten from school. The words melded together, and letters were backwards, but Thalia found she was enjoying the book. It took her away from reality. She got to live in another world, a completely different life, one that was completely opposite from her own. The character had loving parents, friends, she didn't have to help her drunk mother to bed at night, she didn't skip school to have some freedom.

Not the first time in her life, Thalia wished that she had a different life, but what child didn't think that? But Thalia thought about it even more. She hated her life, she'd rather live on the streets than spend even more time with her mother.

The clock on the wall chimed twelve times. Christmas was over. It was now just another regular day.

_III. Cheerful_

There would be no Christmas tree this year, no presents, and no drunken mother. For once in her life, Thalia would be having a _Merry _Christmas. She walked slowly down a street, a tall boy on one side, and a small girl on her other, both holding tightly onto her hands.

Snowflakes fell from the sky in a graceful dance, and Thalia smiled, watching the small blonde haired girl try to catch them on her tongue. Snow stuck in Thalia's black hair, making the boy, stare at her, in a different light.

Thalia caught his gaze, and he smiled at her; then looked back down at the girl by her side. She has given up with the snowflakes, but now, concealed from the boy, she held a snowball, ready to launch.

The snowball connected with the boy's face, and both Thalia and the seven year old collapsed in a heap on the ground, laughing at the expression that appeared. What had been just a small prank, turned into a huge snowball fight between three friends, a family.

_IV. Alone Again_

Black space.

A dim memory.

Blood. Pain. More blood.

She had no conscious thoughts, no knowledge of what happened to her. She did not see her two best friend's suffer.

Annabeth. The small seven year old girl was completely alone except for Luke. It was almost Christmas again, and she knew that it will never be the same.

Luke. Older than Thalia, but just as heartbroken. As the day goes by, he could only sit and remember what happened three hundred and sixty-five days ago. It seemed like forever. Was it really that long ago? Only a year. It's not like he was straining to remember all the details… well he was, but what he remembered most clearly were Thalia's electric blue eyes catching him when he stared at her. She was so beautiful.

The pine tree.

Faint buzzing in her ears, though she could hear nothing.

A tingling sensation at her fingertips, though she could feel nothing.

The taste of snow on her tongue, though she couldn't open her mouth.

The tree, covered in snow was beautiful, just like her, no, the real thing was much more beautiful.

Hanging on a low branch, a pink braided bracelet was hung, with a note attached, from Annabeth, no one had read it, and hopefully no one would.

In the snow beneath the tree, drawn quickly with a discarded stick, Luke wrote just two simple words. The only thing he could give her.

_Merry Christmas._

**_Not my best work, I can say that for sure._**

**_However, reviews are greatly appreciated. I'd like to know what you guys think of it. ^^_**


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